


bad-mouthed viper

by fealle



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awkward Sexual Situations, Charles You Slut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Underage Sex, sort of incest but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:59:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fealle/pseuds/fealle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>that awkward moment when your mother's new boyfriend is also your boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU / porn where erik is charles' stepdad and they have lots of sex while erik is in a relationship with sharon xavier. this was supposed to be a reply to some request in the kink meme that i can't find anymore, although i modified the prompt a bit. :(
> 
> heed the tags.

  


**i.**

It was the stockings that gave it away, first, when Erik notices that Charles draws him to his room and asks him to tuck him into bed, but not before showing him the lace against his thighs, his fingers lithe and fine as they play where the edge of the stockings meets his skin, on the thin band of black lace that holds them up over his waist.

Erik glances at him, takes in the defiant, slightly nervous press of his lips to a thin line as the boy juts out his chin proudly. Even at this angle he looks too much like his mother, or what his mother used to be, diamond and fire and soft curls over wide blue eyes. Charles whispers, _they feel nice on my thighs._ Erik smiles at him and he traces a line from the tips of his toes to the middle of his thigh, stops to slowly wrap a hand around his left thigh to feel the silk underneath his palm, and Erik whispers back, in the soft curve of his ear, _you look wonderful, darling._

His hand hovers over Charles' crotch, his thumb pressing only slightly against his cock while his other hand pushes him down on the bed gently. His hand has never left his thigh and has moved to the other one, playing with the strap of his stocking as he tells him, _good night, Charles._ Charles parts his mouth prettily at him, asks for a kiss. Erik laughs, complies. he kisses him on his cheek, rather chaste for the situation while Charles pulls his hand to his crotch and grinds against it. Charles gives him a breathy sigh and says, _no, kiss me - real - on my lips - I promise i'll be good._

Erik kisses him on the mouth. soft, warm, very eager. He squeezes his crotch gently with a hand and then murmurs against his lips, _goodnight._

 

**ii.**

Mother has good taste, Charles couldn't deny that; but if there's anything his mother's remotely good at, it's pretending to have any taste at all. Her current boyfriend was Erik Lehnsherr, hard as Krupp steel and just as dangerous, if the rumours about him being formerly involved in the third Reich were to believe. Nobody seems to know the truth and Erik, for his part, was more interested in letting the rumours fester around him like a disease, smiling his too-many teeth instead of giving answers. It was mildly infuriating, if only because by now Charles is used to being so protected and so used to shooting down questions, he's had plenty of time to practice, after all, after his father had died and he'd had to answer certain questions about tax evasion and assets hidden in Switzerland and god knows where. Mother, when she was there, answered the questions properly as she would've, but Charles fumbled through them and was easier enough to interrogate when caught alone. In the end Charles had to remain quiet to save his life and watch his mother perform for the press, instead; it was a circus of photojournalists and accidentally impeccably timed tears that was befitting of the Xavier widow, and at the end of the day, their family name was saved and Sharon had plenty of time to apologize to Charles for neglect by talking to the bottom of the Riesling.

Erik Lehnsherr was nothing like that. He allowed the rumours of his involvement in arms manufacture with Hitler to dog him around, building a reputation out of some stray remark that he'd made which was blown out of proportion: _I was one of the bodies that helped move the war machine of Deutschland_ , something cynical, but then again Charles had seen the mark on his forearm too many times. It was the 60s and nowadays people ask him if he supports the occupation or would he rather watch the world fall behind the iron curtain, and Lehnsherr just smiles. Politics is not his arena, economics is, but ask him where his loyalties lie for patriotism or even family and all of a sudden he's on offense, teeth bared in a smile, as if to say, _I can rip your throat out and i'm not afraid to do it._ Playing up the stereotypes always has the unfortunate effect of increasing his dramatic presence. Most of the time people hated him, but Erik doesn't care.

For the most part, Charles learns, slowly, from watching his mother and her boyfriend, how to act in public without becoming a stupid mess which mother would certainly frown upon and sigh constantly about. In other words, he learns how to be a media monster, and that's perfectly fine. The public was an audience that Charles was perfectly willing to bare his teeth the way Erik seems to always do so effortlessly. 

In the evening Erik spends some time with Sharon, laughing and appearing to be perfectly in love with her, which Charles thinks, _how wonderful_ , except that he's seen his mother after his father's death and in this relationship he's wondering which one of them is using whom. That seems less important when he himself knows that Erik is attractive. Perhaps if Charles hadn't been such a careful study of how to perform to an audience he would've felt a lot worse pretending that he's such a good boy, but the problem is that he wants him. And what Charles wants, he usually gets.

 

**iii.**

He catches Erik masturbating in the study, once. It was during a dinner party and Erik had excused himself because he was sporting a headache; _too much politics in the factories,_ he says, laughing, _excuse me, I need an aspirin and a few minutes' rest, I'll be back before the band starts again after dinner._ Charles follows him. He tells mother, _I'll see what I can do to help him._ Of course he's waved off, nobody really suspects the quiet and nice boy precisely because he's always been the quiet and nice boy. 

He's about to knock on the door when he hears the unmistakeable grunt of someone who's jacking off, and he opens the door to the study slightly, and from the small window of light Charles could see Erik's face flushed with sex, his tie undone, his neck bared as he throws his head back while his hand was busy pumping his large cock, his fingers playing with the pre-cum swelling over the head of his cock and spreading it down his length and over his balls and over the length of his cock again, and again, and again, the rhythm of his strokes varying while his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows and parts his lips open, imagining whatever it is to get him off. It was absolutely erotic, and Charles had to put a hand over his mouth to stop him from being heard because his cock is _beautiful_ , Charles hadn't seen much cocks in his life but it was large and gorgeous and the way that Erik was stroking his cock was so lovely, enough that Charles fell on his knees and had to lean slightly against the door frame while his hand hastily makes it inside of his pants - and, after a brief, terrified moment to check whether or not someone's watching - finding none, he slowly strokes himself in the same speed as Erik was jacking off.

It felt really good, Charles feels absolutely dirty but it's not the first time he'd openly ruined something in his life for himself other than mother's hopes and dreams so he doesn't really care if he looks like a slut at the moment. Except that while he tries to match Erik's speed, it was quite a shock for him to realize he'd been moaning uncontrollably as he jerks himself off, soft and low but still moaning otherwise, the hand on his mouth doesn't help matters, and Charles closes his eyes and just listens to Erik grunt and stroke himself furiously and -

\- when he opens his eyes he meets Erik's, and Charles almost freezes because he thinks he's been seen, even if he's almost half-hidden behind the door, Erik's eyes were staring at him while he jerks himself off and Charles, Charles who couldn't think of anything else but _oh god, what if he's thinking of me, oh, oh,_ and he comes, rather messily on the carpeted floor in short gasps.

He hears Erik have his orgasm shortly after that, while Charles was hastily pushing himself to the side of the door to pull up his pants and leave. The zipper gets caught in his pants, however, and he spends some time panicking as he hears footsteps, _Erik's_ , move towards him - 

the door opens, Charles is frozen and doesn't dare to speak, but Erik, very quietly, positions himself between Charles' legs, and looks him in the eyes as he effortlessly zips up his fly for him, button his pants, and buckle his belt.

Erik leans forward to lick Charles' lips, and Charles gasps in his mouth, and is rewarded with one of Erik's grins, the dangerous one, the one that promises to wreck him any way he wants. His hand moves through Charles' hair and pulls his head back to expose his pale neck and Erik couldn't help himself, he leans down and marks Charles' neck, near the base so the boy could still easily hide it, his body twitching and grinding against his crotch as he made wet kisses over his throat after bruising his neck.

 

**iv.**

They haven't really said anything to each other beyond a few pleasantries, and Charles always makes sure to sound every bit as bored whenever he talks to Mr Lehnsherr so as to take away the amount of interest that he has about him, and Erik seems wholeheartedly interested in Charles' accomplishments rather than entertaining personal questions about him. Between the two of them they cultivate a relationship that was built on "how do you do"s and talks of the weather. Erik has a somewhat pleasant relationship with his mother; occasionally, he even manages to make her laugh, which is a rare thing that he hasn't seen her done genuinely for a long time. His mother tells him, _Mr Lehnsherr has an acerbic wit, although morbidly funny_ , and Erik tips his fedora in response. Charles isn't sure if he's genuinely funny or it's something that his mother notices at the moment because she doesn't know any better; she's obviously attracted to him as much as she is to the Pinot Noir in her hand. So long as she's happy. Erik isn't an asshole and has no intentions to ruin her as far as he's concerned, although Charles would gladly volunteer his virtue if it weren't so much trouble.

Sex was a funny thing. he's a teenager, most boys in his age in school talk about tits all the time, talk about excursions to the girls' locker room after Phys Ed to look at them and jerk off. In the middle of that he's learning at a pace far more advanced than his peers and all of a sudden he's bored by these petty excursions and he wants something more real than multiple trips for masturbating on someone else's cousin, girlfriend, sister, teacher. The bodies are all the same to him.

Erik was forbidden by virtue of him being two decades older than he was and also because he was mother's current lifeline, but he was also very handsome, and Charles is very willing; combined with both, Charles knows that if he puts his mouth on that cock Erik wouldn't refuse him the world.

He's feeling rather coquettish one day and while his mother had been off in the lawn playing polo with his uncles and aunts, Erik was in the shade, reading, and Charles moves onto his lap.

"Will you read to me?"

Erik raises an eyebrow, but says nothing; he slips an arm around his small waist (Charles blushes red furiously) and feels Erik pull him over so that the soft swell of his ass was over his slowly-hardening cock. "It's in German, unfortunately."

"I don't mind," he says sweetly. "I have an interest in languages."

Erik reads to him in the shade; occasionally he waves to Sharon, who's having fun with her horse and her society friends and relatives over the lawn. Charles, in the meanwhile, barely resists grinding down on Erik's lap or on his cock, bites his lower lip rather impatiently, crosses his legs to feel the fabric of his shorts press against the corner of his thighs and on his cock to distract him from wanting Erik's cock in the cleft of his ass. Erik's voice is soothing to him; his hand makes small circles on his back and Charles feels like he could drown like this.

After a while Erik gets tired of reading to him and Charles stands up, kisses him on the nose. "Thank you," he says, and leaves, but not before throwing him a hopeful glance that spans from his handsome face towards his gorgeous limbs. Charles wets his lips, makes sure that Erik's eyes were following the tip of his tongue as it wets his sinfully red lips, and leaves, smiling.

 

**v.**

Charles' mother tells him, "I'm going away with Erik for a bit, darling, we'll be back soon enough."

She throws him a rather flirty look which he repays with something affectionate enough, and Charles smiles and tells her to have fun, but he can't felp but feel jealous that he's going away.

He tells himself, he is old enough that he should be embarrassed about potential displays of jealousy, and instead busies himself with studying.

 

**vi.**

That night, Erik visits him, slips into his room quietly at around the wee hours of the morning and he's woken up by the sound of his door being locked and Erik moving to his side of the bed, his hand slipping underneath his pyjama to play with his nipples as it moves through his torso, carefully prying the buttons of his shirt open by running the back of his palm underneath the buttoned seam of his clothes.

"How long will you be leaving," Charles asks, wondering if he sounds too needy at all when he says it. "You'll take care of her?"

"A few weeks, we'll spend some time in Liechtenstein. And of course I will."

It feels cold once his shirt was open, and he says so, and Erik smiles at him as he dips his head to lick Charles' nipple, playing with the hardened nub with the tip of his tongue. "Do you want this?"

And Charles gasps, "yes," and may have added more but he can't remember or couldn't because Erik slips two fingers in his mouth and forces it close around his fingers with his thumb underneath his chin, warm mouth over his ear ordering him to _suck._ and Charles obeys, while Erik moves his fingers in and out of Charles' mouth, getting spit messily over the edge of his lips and down his chin as Charles licks and wraps his tongue around his fingers like he would to his cock if it were shoved in his mouth. 

Erik pulls his fingers out eventually and kisses him, messy with spit and all, and then he lifts Charles from his bed and carries him to his bathroom, Charles unwilling to part from him as he wraps his legs around his hips and kisses him with teeth and tongue while he locks the door. He pulls the seat down on the toilet and sits on the cover, all the while pushing Charles to his knees and admiring how lovely his red lips look around his cock, halfway his cock, or almost down the base of his cock while Charles tries to take him wholly down his throat. When he couldn't push Erik's cock into his mouth he pulls his mouth out (he shudders pleasantly when he hears Erik growl as he removed his mouth from his cock), spits on his hand, and then strokes Erik while he licks and sucks his cock eagerly. He wants to moan like a bitch but he doesn't want Erik to get caught either, so his other hand claws Erik's thigh as he tries not to moan, but settles with giving soft, breathy sighs of pleasure. He tries again and again to take Erik into his mouth and down his throat as much as he can without choking, and often has to pull back before he actually does, but he tries, and eventually he learns how to push his cock down his tight throat and the minute he figures out, Erik thought he was going to come right then and there so he pulls his mouth off of his cock this time, watching Charles' mouth slick with spit and cum as his cock makes an obscene, popping sound as Charles releases it from his mouth.

Charles' eyes were absolutely dazed. "Please fuck me," he says quietly, his blue eyes looking impossibly big underneath those gorgeous lashes, and Erik laughs and says, "I will _ruin_ you, boy."

They end up on all fours on the bathroom floor, Erik making Charles kneel on his shirt so that he doesn't bruise his knees easily while he slaps Charles, once, twice, and Charles gasping at each hit, his toes curling at the sharp pain. Erik then lubes his fingers and pushes them into Charles' ass, hooking and scissoring him until the boy was a quivering naked mess on the floor biting on his wrist to keep quiet. Erik's cock was hard and slick while his pants lay discarded on the floor, but his shirt was still on and he doesn't intend on taking it off because he'll have to go back to his room eventually. In the meantime he relishes the small sounds of begging that Charles makes while he makes him gasp and heel with his fingers deliciously torturing him, Erik leaning over to press kisses on his spine, his other hand heavy on Charles' thigh as he spreads him wider for his use. He was tight and warm around two, three fingers, four. Tight and delicious and willing, always a dangerous combination but that's Charles, Charles who was willingly spreading his legs for him and begging him in no certain terms to ruin his body.

He takes his fingers out of his ass and then, slicking his cock some more, pushes it halfway inside of Charles' ass, gasping at how tight it was despite having stretched it with his fingers already, his fingers grasping on his small hips and his nails embedding themselves on the skin. He slams deep inside of his ass after making it halfway through because he doesn't think he could bear thrusting slowly and that's when Charles lets out a sharp moan, which gets brutally cut short with a slap to his ass and Erik's hands looping his necktie around his mouth and knotting it at the back of his head. Erik lets Charles adjust to his girth, the boy frantically grinding his ass against Erik's cock. Erik glances at the clock over the door, notes that he's been gone almost fourty-five minutes since he'd begun, also notes that it's almost three in the morning, he'd better make it quick.

Erik pulls Charles' hands backwards, holds them like reins, and then he leans down to whisper to Charles, "I'm sorry I can't drag this out as much as I'd like to, darling, I'm on a tight schedule," and begins to ride him, his crotch slapping wetly and balls-deep inside Charles' ass. From where he's kneeling Erik could see Charles' face reflected from the full-length mirror behind the door; he can see Charles chewing on that necktie given that his hand isn't over his mouth anymore to stop him from moaning. God he was so good, he was so perfect, the sight of his ass tight around his cock was driving Erik mad, the way that his ass bounces perfectly against his crotch whenever he thrusts inside of him was mesmerizing; and on the mirror, Charles' blue eyes standing out against his flushed face, his legs spread wide against his crotch, thighs glistening with sweat and cum. "You're so gorgeous, darling," Erik whispers, his voice almost broken with grunts as he tells him, "you're so perfect, your ass is perfect, god if I have more time I'd wreck you and I'd turn you into my slut," and Charles just moans and grinds against his cock every time Erik holds him and thrusts deep inside of his ass, only to pull his cock out and slam _hard_ into his ass again and again. Charles' wrists hurt from being held like reins in Erik's hands but he doesn't complain, he just moans as quiet as he can while Erik fucks him, his knees bruised and red from the pressure of sex. Charles' face was red; he was sweating heavily and there were strands of hair that stuck around his eyes and over his cheeks which framed him beautifully, his mouth still red and wet from sucking his cock earlier. Erik fucks him hard, no restraint whatsoever and knowing that come tomorrow morning he probably won't be able to walk let alone sit on anything, prim and proper and nice Charles fucked like a goddamned slut on the floor of his bathroom at three am and nobody will know.

Charles comes after a while, and when he does Erik pulls him flush against his chest, stroking his cock and watching him against the mirror as he spills semen over his chest and his thighs. He goes limp in his arms after that, and Erik sits back and pulls Charles' legs back, forcing him to lean forward and anchor himself on the floor with his hands as he pulls his ass up and then grinds it down Erik's thighs over and over again. Charles looks at himself on the mirror, sees Erik's face handsome, red, lustful, his mouth obscene and his balls taut as they pushed up against his ass over and over again and it gives Charles a sort of satisfaction to satisfy him in ways that a trip to Liechtenstein probably couldn't, wouldn't. Erik comes not too long after, and Charles couldn't stop himself from keening, which turns too loud in his bathroom, as he feels Erik orgasm.

When he was done Erik pulls his cock out and kisses Charles over and over again, marking his neck with bruises, his shoulders, playing with his stretched hole with his fingers, and then whispers, "clean up. I'll see you at breakfast, later, before your mother and I go for a week or two."

Charles grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him down for a kiss again, and Erik complies. When he breaks off the kiss later he whispers, "I want more."

And to that, Erik only replies, "be good, and maybe I'll give you something more than this." 

 

**vii.**

If his mother was upset about him waking up late, she didn't show; perhaps she was too distracted from the trip, and that was fine for Charles, who showed up to breakfast in a turtleneck and his lips coated with vaseline ("summer heat, mother, my lips are cracked and they keep bleeding," Charles lies easily, and Erik smiles at him in approval).

"Take care," Charles says, and his mother replies, "thank you darling," barely resists giving him a hug until she thinks better of it; the urge to act like a girl has passed, she straightens her suit with her hands and smiles at him. In a certain way she misses Charles, but the Charles in her head never corresponds with the one she sees and it was sometimes strange to feel a need to coddle him and be repulsed by that carefully cultivated look of polite indifference and affection that his face has. Erik lights a cigarette and takes a drag from it, directs the porters to put their luggage carefully at the back of their car. His mother goes to the passenger's seat, smiling, giving last-minute instructions to the head maid. Erik leans down to press a kiss on Charles' cheek, very chaste, except that Charles takes that minute to whisper, "I will miss your cock."

Erik laughs. "Very naughty. I look forward to punishing you, when I get back."

Charles smiles at him, an indulgent smile of a boy who's aware that he's getting spoiled and loves it. He waves goodbye to them rather wistfully, leaning against the door of the garage as he watches Erik start the car and wave back at him, wistful and somewhat forlorn, though more for Erik than anything else. And as he watches the car disappear into the distance he rubs the place on his cheek that Erik has kissed with the back of his fingers, and, when he was sure that no-one was looking, slips his fingers into his mouth and sucks them, gets them nice and wet, before pulling them out hastily and then wiping the spit on his pants, his cheeks burning red as he moves past a curious maid.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> erik returns from liechtenstein; he and charles have sex; charles asks a hundred questions, finds answers only to about two or three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> underaged porn. infidelity. emotional manipulation. violence. heed the tags.

_aus Liechtenstein_ \--

**i.**

Once Erik gets home, Charles reaches up to his tiptoes to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek; his reception to his mother is just as warm, but his eyes lingered on Erik who smiles and is definitely not watching Sharon give Charles a surprised and rather affronted look, rather taken aback by the sudden display of affection, as if somehow Charles had violated an unspoken rule that they have agreed on, after Brian's death.

No matter; the whole thing was smoothed over afterwards, Sharon offering a small smile and smoothing the folds of her dress rather self-consciously, like she were a small girl again and Charles had been nothing but an interested acquaintance who caught her unexpectedly in a gathering she never wanted to be but had no choice. Perhaps in another time she might've smiled, and it's the memory that weighs in her mind that makes her rather feel guilty at being so stand-offish today (and other days, and the day before that - ), so she holds Charles by his shoulders as she walks back inside the house.

"How was your vacation?" asks Charles politely. 

"Rather pleasant," Erik answered. "Not bad, even at this time of the year."

"We enjoyed ourselves quite well," Sharon said, laughing, and Erik smiles back at her and they kiss, very much in love, except that Charles was watching them with a sharp smile, his finger playing with a lock of hair as he bites the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from giving shape to a particular truth that would certainly ruin her where she stands with one word. All it takes is one word, really.

Power was a funny thing; the realization that one holds it in their hands, even more so, and if there's anything Charles enjoys quite well it's knowing the exact word or look that can make a man or a woman turn and acknowledge what he says as gospel truth. 

For example:

"I'm very happy for both of you and I'm glad you had fun."

Nothing but the gospel truth. Sharon smiles, something like relief passes in her face; meanwhile, Erik tilts the tip of his fedora in response, but there's a hard look in his eyes that tells Charles he didn't quite appreciate it whenever he bares his teeth in polite company. Oh well. Charles smiles back, pretends to clean imaginary dirt from his fingernails for a while, and then heads to the piano room to play something clean and fast. Perhaps Brahms would do.

 

**ii.**

He missed Erik 's cock. Perhaps it's a cruel thing that out of all the things that he likes about him, it all comes down to his body; handsome, statuesque, and in the right light the muscles look like they're carved out of marble, _absolutely perfect_ , and only for him, most especially his cock. It was deliciously hard and wet in his mouth and he loves stroking and playing with it, along with his balls, loves listening to the small noises of pleasure Erik makes whenever he pushes it far enough down his throat, just _right there_ , and then swallows, carefully around his cock. He can feel Erik 's body tense underneath him while he lay over his body, sucking his cock, listening and feeling Erik breathe and gasp at the smallest of gestures, the slight dip of his mouth and tongue around his shaft.

On the opposite end of his body Erik has his legs parted around his torso, Charles' ass facing his mouth, lapping at his asshole while Charles sucks his cock.

"Spread yourself wider," he murmurs.

Charles nods, and stops stroking and playing with his cock in order to reach back and spread his ass for him, and Erik smiles and licks, sucks.

It's quite pleasant. It'd be a lot more pleasant if he didn't have to return Erik to his mother, but that's not a decision for him to make.

When Erik cums in his mouth Charles could barely stifle a moan as he swallows every drop, Erik had no hope of stopping himself from groaning. He finishes Charles after, letting him spill his cum over his chest and down his stomach. Charles lazily rearranges himself on his bed and licks him clean, from where his cum had spilled over his navel to the ridges of muscle over his torso and over his chest.

"How was Liechtenstein?"

"'bout as boring as you'd expect, but other than that, rather pleasant." Erik slowly closes his eyes. It's a bit hard to fall asleep on Charles' bed, since the pillows are a bit too flat for his tastes, but perhaps it's just as well since he still had to go back to his mother before she wakes up. "She enjoyed it."

Charles licks his torso clean of his cum and starts to play with Erik 's left nipple with his tongue, his other hand playing with his right, flicking and playing the nub gently with his fingers while he licked and sucked the other with his mouth and thrust gently against his cock. Erik groaned, his hand stilling at Charles' waist. "You need to be less possessive in plain view."

"I'm not."

"Darling, you're not a very good liar."

"I said I'm not." Charles licked Erik 's pert nipple and then sucked on it hard, trapping the nub in between his teeth for the briefest of moments before releasing it from his mouth and then teasing him by licking around his areola. His fingers pinched on Erik 's other nipple, then rubbed it in between index and forefinger. Beneath him, Erik arches in pleasure, slightly upsetting his stuffed toys down to the (thankfully) carpeted floor. "If I didn't know how to share, there'd be scandal by now. And possibly, the disowning of a Xavier heir, which would've been the most interesting - " he punctuates his statement with another gentle bite to Erik 's already sensitive nipples; Erik nearly screams, "- thing that's happened to me in my rather uneventful life."

Erik chuckled, his hand giving Charles a sharp, swift slap to his rump for that gesture, which Charles absolutely loved and bit his lower lip as he arched against his hand, the skin of his ass turning red and pleasantly warm in the cold air after the hit. "You don't consider me interesting?" 

"I consider you something that's inevitable in my life - "

"Charming of you."

"- like my mother's alcoholism, or my penchant for chess."

"A bit too destructive for my tastes."

"But it's the only thing you'll accept," Charles replies rather sweetly. He stops playing with his nipples to tilt his head upwards and kiss him; Erik slips tongue and teeth and Charles practically melts in his arms. _It's 3 am, darling, do you know where your man is?_ He thinks in particular to no-one, feels like he should be guilty; decides that he ought not to, being deprived of so many things in his childhood and finally learning how to bite back and take what he wants. If that makes him selfish, well. He's only as horrible as the one who taught him.

Erik stays a few minutes more then rises to put back his clothes and leaves. His cock was still hard when he left, and Charles bit his lower lip as he watched him walk out.

In the dark he turns to face the wall and slips two fingers into his mouth, then three, getting them wet and slick enough so he could push it in his ass while he jacks off, thinking of Erik 's neck, Erik 's cock, Erik 's ass, Erik 's lovely arms, Erik 's hands, Erik 's everything. It was a travesty to see that he came all over his sheets and a bit of his cum landed on the stuffed toys on his bed, but it's a rather small compromise, he thinks, for being such a sweet and quiet and gentle boy who can do no wrong.

 

**iii.**

"Charles is growing up rather fast," Sharon remarks. They're in Charles' school, watching Charles lead them towards his classroom, where his teacher was waiting to inform them about his results. No surprises here, Charles is a rather good student, and he's here to hear more praise heaped upon his shoulders like the spoiled brat that he is, because he will never hear that at home, certainly not. And anyway, there are other praises he likes to hear more often from home, like _god you have such a tight ass_ and _swallow all of it, Charles, you're such a good boy_ and _put your hands up against the wall and kneel. Spread your legs. I'm going to punish you, and I want you count every single -_

"Charles, Mr. Ellice here - ?"

The mundanity of the question draws him out of his day dreams, and Charles affects a rather flustered face. "I'm sorry - I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous about this meeting," he lies.

"Why, there's no need for that; you're a brilliant student, Mr. Xavier," Mr. Ellice is a kind man. He tells Sharon how Charles has been so proactive with student groups, to which Sharon makes a face to, and then he tells her that he's been doing so well in his courses, which is a lot more palatable to her than the idea of student groups and so she can grant him a smile, finally. Behind her, Erik smirked. Charles gives him a small smile and then sits on a desk beside his mother, his back straight, the soft swell of his ass visible against his tight shorts as he crossed his legs and Erik watched him from behind.

"Not fast enough," Charles says to his mother, and laughs at his own joke.

 

**iv.**

Erik tells his mother that he'd like to take Charles to a tour of his new factories. Charles brushes up on his knowledge of material outsourcing and steel manufacturing in America and Mr. Ford's recent advertising campaigns and the state of Pfizer's Feldene (Piroxicam) and other sundry things that he could easily bluff his way out of, should someone ask, because having passable knowledge of anything important is good for cocktail parties which Erik loathed, but would certainly be making appearances in, and of course Charles would have to be there. The venerable Xavier heir will have to represent the family when he travels with Erik, alone, and that was a tragedy that he was willing to bear.

Three weeks. Three weeks of being with people who are as shallow as he could've been in the cocoon that he surrounds himself with, fame and wealth could easily do that to him, and it was torture to Charles, who conversed eloquently with those who were there and needed to be seen by him and that he needed to make a good impression with. It was quite easy to do but otherwise ridiculously mind-numbing. There is nothing more ridiculous in the world than being able to predict the stock phrases and questions everyone in rather small gatherings gossip and chat about, things which Charles could easily predict given proper time and estimation and it's all very boring, it neither adds nor subtracts to the store of knowledge he has in his head; it simply was just _there_ , and he can understand why his mother drank all the time. His face hurt from smiling and his hands hurt from shaking everyone's hand and he wished they would all just go away. Later on he will write to his mother the names of the people who've sent their regards and then send the letter off with distaste in his mouth. No, he was certainly not the nicest person he knows about, his affairs with Erik are certainly enough to damn Erik and his family in the public and private eye. But his thirst for knowledge was pure in itself; above all things he would seek for it anything else before satisfying his body. The mind, first, must be sated. The mind was a beast, of many voices and words reaching forever towards many different minds like a net, wanting the definite frequencies attuned to his mental pleasures, before Charles surrenders his body for pleasure. 

He tells Erik this, late at night, while Erik affixes the loop of a chain around his wrists gently. Afterwards he asks, rather quietly, "Do you think I'm horrible?"

"Of course you are," Erik says soothingly. Charles was about to lash out but he was interrupted by Erik pulling on the chain, which lead to Charles' arms stretched over his head, hung over a loop that stretched his torso rather attractively while he knelt on the floor. He pursed his lips in displeasure, and Erik sneered at him. "The only advantages you have, Charles, beyond the very people you deride, are money and influence. But that doesn't change the fact that you're a horrible human being. And unfortunately, you're a horrible human being whom I've fallen in love with."

Charles laughs hollowly. "I'm certainly glad I'm not paying for your diagnosis."

"It's not a diagnosis, I'm afraid." Erik kisses him at the corner of his mouth as a sign of deferrence; Charles tilts his head to the side. There are goosebumps on his skin as he knelt, naked, over Erik's bed and his arms tugged at the chain looped around his wrist, hanging from the ceiling of the modified four-poster bed which Erik had. He tests it for its tightness, for its strength, and finding it satisfactory, lets himself hang from the apparatus. Erik kisses him again, bites on his lower lip.

"You could be a lot kinder, if you wanted to be."

"You just said - "

"I say a lot of things. Sometimes I don't mean half of them; sometimes I do."

Erik moves behind him and places kisses at the base of his neck, and down his spine, back up to his shoulders. He sinks his teeth down the soft space in between his collarbones, and Charles arches against him, his bare ass rutting against Erik 's cock, which was unfortunately behind his trousers. Erik had not taken off his suit, and he looked so handsome that Charles' heart ached - so handsome he didn't mind the barbs being thrown at him, and he thinks, _oh, well, I wonder where I learnt that._

His voice is quiet when he asks, "Will you marry my mother?" He's not foolish enough to ask him to stay.

He can't see Erik 's face behind him, but he hears lube being slathered over his fingers and he felt his ass being spread wide while Erik pushes two fingers inside of him, and Charles hisses, moans. "-- answer me." _Please._

"No."

"Then - ?"

"I am looking for a man named Sebastian Shaw."

Erik twists his fingers, scissors, Charles moans and gasps and shudders his name. _Erik , Erik , Erik ._

"He was an associate of your father, before he died."

He slips in a third finger, and a hand reaches over Charles' cock, dripping with pre-come. Erik 's thumb plays with the semen spilling from the head of his cock while he fucks him with his fingers with the other hand and Charles forgets his questions, forgets his worries, twists and lashes against the bindings and begs Erik to fuck him. Erik just smiles.

"With luck, I'll find him, and perhaps after that - "

"Yes?"

"We'll see."

Charles bites his lower lip as he spreads his legs for him wider. "At least give me something definite."

"What, and break your heart?"

A vicious snarl: "Hardly the only part of me that you've left intact."

Erik moves to face Charles; there's a sheen over his eyes that's not because of the pain from sex, but something else, and Erik could only offer him the smallest of smiles before he kisses him. He tells him, "I promise you, I won't disappear without at least giving you a way to contact me."

It's better than nothing, and Charles seizes onto it, a viper and its prey.

Charles tells him, "Please fuck me. Ruin me."

And Erik tells him, finally: "Yes."

 

**v.**

"I read your letters," his mother says. "Mr. Lehnsherr certainly sounds like a busy man."

She looks at him with fondness as he comes on horseback, holding a shotgun, coming from a rather succesful hunt with some of his mother's friends. Charles looks at that gun and thinks, _I can do things with that barrel. All he has to do is shove it down my mouth._

There were images of explosion and death, repulsive and gory in his mind, but they were always tempered by a vision of Erik's thumb sweeping over his lower lip as he pushes the barrel down his mouth, round and full and sleek as the gun parts his lips. _There's a good boy._

"He definitely is. There are always so many people to keep track of around him, it's somewhat exhausting."

His mother shrugs, drinks his tea. "Nevertheless, I'm glad you were gracious enough to indulge his request."

"Of course." Charles wipes his lips after drinking his tea, crumples the napkin with a hand as he disposes of it aside. His mother frowns. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing. I keep remembering how mundane the chit-chat was back there; I'm awfully glad I'm back in Europe. The level of discourse, at least, is marginably elevated."

His mother laughs at how vicious he was, which was a victory for Charles - laughter from her is so rare nowadays - although the funny thing was, he wasn't joking at the time.

 

**vi.**

Another bedroom. Another sunday. Charles is practising the art of smoking, and so far he's had very little success in liking the smell of cigarettes. Post-coital smoking, however, was about to change his mind. Erik was beside him, cleaning his gun on the side table, naked. He can see the ridge and dip of muscle all over his arm, and something powerful aches in him, beyond recent wants of knowledge or love or anything else.

He could ruin the moment by being honest, so he tells him, in a hushed voice, almost like a confession, "I dreamt that you pushed your gun down my mouth and I licked around the barrel and sucked it, like I would with your cock."

Erik looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and laughs.

"I've certainly dreamt of firing it, once or twice, after the war. Same position as you, except it's a dream I confessed to someone else."

Charles' fist clenches around a fistful of blankets. "I'm sorry."

Erik shrugs. "I've smoked enough sheets from the Torah and your Bible to acknowledge pity. Save it for someone else, Charles. I love you, but this isn't what I need from you."

Charles takes a drag. Inhales, exhales. Erik cleans his gun. When he's done he puts it underneath their pillow and he leans over Charles, again, takes his cigarette and smokes it to its filter, throws it out the window. He lays down over Charles after, softly caressing his cheek, fingers playing with his hair.

Charles says: "If you get hurt, I don't think I can forgive you. I don't think I can forgive you once you break my mother's heart, too, much as I'd like you to be mine."

Erik shrugs, his fingers moving down his waist, over Charles' legs. "You can take your revenge any time you want. You of all people have that right."

"I don't want to," Charles says.

"You'll regret that," Erik tells him. "You'll regret not wanting to punch me, not pushing me away when you could've .... You'll regret all of it, and then afterwards, you'll forgive me, because I'm the only one you know who could ever allow you to be as spoiled and horrible and selfish as you are and yet still love you and make you believe there's hope in you yet. Will you be alright with that? Will you?"

He's rather proud of himself when he hears him talk and his voice doesn't waver, not at all, but that doesn't help him stop his tears: "Yes."

Erik smiles. His licks his tears as they fall from his eyes and kisses him. "You're a good boy, Charles."

He bites back a sob as he turns to the side and wipes his eyes, frustrated, his fingers digging into Erik 's arm and clawing the skin in want and need. "God - god, I know. I love you. I'm sorry. And I love you. And I don't regret anything, _don't you dare_ tell me how I should feel. I don't. I love you. And if I have to do it again, I swear to you I'll still love you, because - "

Erik is serene as he replies, "I know. We'll fall in love. And again, and again, and again."


End file.
